You're Mine
by SeverNSkull
Summary: Loki lives the nightlife in a Midgardian city, and just when he begins to feel the disdain of his profession, he finds himself whisked away into a kingdom of gold, straight into the arms of the Golden Prince himself and the lovely Lady Sif. Thor AU. LokixSif and Thorki.


_SeverNSkull here! My first 'Thor' fic! Yay! Fortunately for you slash-lovers and Thorki fans, this is exactly that, but a reminder, there's some Loki and Sif here too. Originally, the name of this story was '**Omni-whore**', but you can't use 'whore' appropriately on fanfiction, because it's a profane word. _

_Also, this is an AU. I know what you're thinking, "WHY?! IT WAS FINE AS IT WAS! WHY AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE? WHY NOT JOTUNHEIM OR ASGARD?!" That's another thing, I wanted a futuristic setting, also a reason for the word 'omni-'. The original title had two meanings: a prostitute in an alternative universe and the fact that here Loki is a pansexual. _

_This is just chapter one and I'd love to get some reviews. If I get enough feedback, I'll be inspired to write the next chapter sooner, even though I don't update my other stories often... I still have a phone I can use to update! So please read and review, there'll be more 'man-candy' along the way and I'll gladly listen to advice, suggestions, and feedback! Thanks!_

**Disclaimer: I do not own 'Thor', 'Marvel', or any of their characters.**

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The chilled breeze ran fingers through the iron city, brushing against the raven's face and ruffling messy locks of hair. The raven-haired man didn't mind though, he was at home with it. He became used to the cold; he had come from a world of ice and snow, in turn, his body was born and sculpted of it, much like all Jotuns. He was a Jotun, regardless of his disguise, and his name was Loki.

Loki hated the city. It was a disgusting, dank, dark place filled with distasteful criminals, detestable murderers, and drabbing whores, just like him. He had lived here since he was a child, when his parent, Laufey abandoned him to die. Loki had wandered the streets for weeks, starving and covered in filth until finally, a kindly man had come across him. The man, like himself wasn't a Midgardian, but didn't have similar ideals. You see, the moment he came across Loki, he began sizing him up to use as merchandise, making the boy suffer for years to come, much into his adulthood. Loki learned to deal, even enjoy it to an extent as he sold his body for each customer's enjoyment.

It wasn't just the city that was disgusting, it was himself. People tended to think the worst of his kind - the hermaphrodite Jotuns - not just because of their reproductive nature, but also for their lack of compassion for other creatures that live within the light. It was contradictory. Loki hated being a Jotun and hid away his true form, taking on the flesh of a man of alabaster skin and emerald eyes instead of his own night-shade blue and angry red eyes. He made more money maintaining this appearance anyways.

As a matter of fact, Loki was just headed back from such an instance. He had spent the better part of the night in the company of an older man with a peculiar fondness for S&M. He spent the better part of his night tied up and naked while being beaten, spanked, bitten, and roughly receiving a painful screwing. His everything hurt from his hair, which had been roughly pulled, to his sorely reddened nipples, all the way to his bottom which had received a brutal beating as well as having been thoroughly fucked by what felt like a freight train.

The Jotun pulled his coat closer around his body, not because of the cold, but as a sliver of security from prying eyes. It was his favorite leather coat; all black with tinges of gold decoration and green lining. The leather never quite met, revealing Loki's attire which consisted of tight black leather pants, a black mesh shirt, and a silver band around his throat with a blinking blue light. It wasn't so much of a choice on the latter. The band kept him from using his magic and prevented him from necrotizing anyone he touched, or anyone who touched him. His skin was still colder than an Aesir or a Midgardian's.

After a night of pain, pleasure, and lustful gazes in his direction, Loki decided to take a most relaxing shower to wash it all away and warm him from the frost both outside in the world around him and within his own body. He went straight home, and from there, he began stripping down to step into the hot stream. He waved a hand as he hung up his coat, magically turning his shower on and to just the right temperature for the Jotun. He pulled his shirt over his head and discarded it on the floor, revealing a willowy frame dusted with bruises and hickeys. He winced as his sore muscles responded. "That was more than I expected", he murmured as a remark on his current state. He began to mutter a spell, but at the last moment before it could set in motion, his collar beeped, notifying the raven that he was done spell-casting for the night. He swore under his breath; he'd just have to wait until tomorrow then. It seemed pitiful that he had to rely on a garment to deal out his magic; he still had some to spare; more than enough!

The Jotun scowled and continued to strip, letting more of his abused body coming to light. Loki scoffed and peeled off his tight pants - he had gone commando - before stepping into the relaxing warm spray. He basked in the heat, closing his eyes in bliss and let his head fall back, wetting his raven locks. Loki sighed and braced himself against a cool tile wall as the streams washed away his fatigue. He let out a minty, disdainful breath. He hated his life. He lived in the shadows; he was a creature that although beautiful, was meant to be concealed and caged. He opened his foreign eyes and watched the water drip down his chest. Was he truly that? Was he truly a monster?

He heard a phone going off and set himself straight. "Shower: off", he said plainly as he opened the spearmint-colored curtain. It was tacky, but he found himself liking the way it clashed with the pristine white of the rest of the bathroom. He stepped on the green bathmat and grabbed his towel off the rack, drying his raven black hair. "Answer..."

"_Hello beautiful_," he crackled male voice on the other end of the line purred over the speakers.

Loki scoffed and rolled green eyes. _Of course_, why did he answer the phone? "A most humble greeting," Loki responded smoothly keeping his exhaustion out of his voice.

The voice over the speakers chuckled, "_Still at that, are we_?"

Loki began to dry down his neck and sopped up the water that had dripped down his chest from his damp hair. The chilled room did nothing to make him shiver, but rather the air-dry, he figured he'd take advantage of toweling off, since he figured his _employer_ had another painfully demeaning task for him. He winced as he went over a a particularly painful spot over his abs. "Is there something you had for me Fandral, or were you just checking up on your favorite _girl_', Loki teased.

"_About that_...", the blonde Aesir said over the speakers. "_I gave your contract to _someone else."

Loki froze, "What?" It wasn't that he didn't hear, he just couldn't believe it. Oh gods! Not to Thanos, right?!

"_My__ dearest friend is getting married and I decided to give you as a gift_", he answered.

"Oh yes, a magicked Jotun of my _profession_ is the most _perfect_ gift to give to a prince before he's wed. You are a most brilliant man, _Fandral_", Loki growled in a voice overflowing with bitter sarcasm.

He could hear the Aesir huff and mutter curses on the other end. "_Why must you make everything difficult, Loki_?"

There was only one person that Fandral called a '_dear friend_', and Loki had met the man before albeit, from a distance - Loki wasn't one whom enjoyed the company of barbaric sword-slingers. The Aesir prince was the stereotypical Aesir prince; exactly what you'd expect. He was tall, blonde, muscle-bound, and every bit as arrogant as a young prince would be, of course he didn't take much notice of _him_. Whilst Loki was in his company, he took more notice of the woman at his side, Lady Sif. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon, which goes without saying, Loki _played for both teams_.

"Why must you be so unequivocally bull-headed and stupid", Loki responded. He disliked the prince more than he disliked Fandral, and they _loathed _one another, fervently. He passive-aggressively wrapped his towel around his waist rather tightly, making him wince.

Fandral growled angrily, "_Why must you argue?! I can do with you as I wish_!"

"You don't have my contract anymore, and you never owned me. You may have been able to do as you wish with me, but I can say what I want", Loki roared and glared hatefully at the speaker.

"_Fine then! I'll be glad to be rid of you, silver-tongued demon_", the blonde said before Loki heard the tell-tale beep of him hanging up.

That hit a sore spot. Loki frowned and stomped into his bedroom, pouting. He needed to pack then. Although he could do as he willed, he was glad to be leaving this world; this city anyways. He laid down on his bed, stomach first, laying his chin on his crossed arms. What exactly would he be doing for the prince, or his woman? Surely the prince was straight, but then again, Loki's magic allowed him to overcome that; he could easily shift into a young lady. He shut his eyes and sighed, packing could wait. The Jotun decided to get some rest now that he felt more miserable, but he couldn't stay that way for long, no. He was haunted by jet black hair and golden skin, as well as a bold, yet feminine face and features. If he went to Asgard, he'd be able to see her once more in the very least, even though he'd be her fiancee's pet.

He buried his face in his pale arms. He'd contemplate this more tomorrow.


End file.
